


Clubbing Like It's 1943

by hermione_vader



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Crack, Gen, Humor, Weirdness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-31
Updated: 2013-01-31
Packaged: 2017-11-27 17:16:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/664470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hermione_vader/pseuds/hermione_vader
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Original written for Capkink.  The Howling Commandos and Howard Stark got the Infinity Formula after the war, so they've never aged.  Naturally, they go clubbing with the Avengers.  Hijinks ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clubbing Like It's 1943

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in November 2011, before _The Avengers_ was released and before Kimye became a thing.

"Dugan, is there any particular reason you're hiding behind a fake palm tree?"  Falsworth asked, squinting through the strobe lights' bouncing colors.    
  
Dugan shuffled behind the plastic green branches.  "I just met that Kim Kardashian.  She gave me lines about having a thing for mustaches.  I told her I preferred women with moving foreheads."  
  
"Why would she be interested in _you_ in the first place?  I mean, you're good-looking enough, but her type seems to be---"  
  
"She's damn desperate, from what I been hearin' in this corner.  I think she thinks I'm a rich bastard."  
  
Falsworth furrowed his brow.  "Why not just introduce her to Stark?"  
  
"Which one?"  
  
The elder Stark ran up to them, his shirt unbuttoned.  "I just got my fifth 'Stop embarassing me, Dad!' text of the night!  Definitely gonna break my record!"    
  
"Alright, then," Falsworth said as Stark rejoined the mosh pit and Dugan poked his head out of the palm tree.  "Sergeant, really, you can't stay in there all night."  
  
"I sure as hell ain't gettin' humiliated on a cheap cable show."  Dugan backed further into the corner.  
  
"Well, you can come back out when you want to stop being ridiculous."  Falsworth sighed and walked back towards the bar, which Thor and Jones were currently standing on.  
  
"I ADORE EVERYONE IN THIS ESTABLISHMENT!!!"  Thor shouted.  He put Jones in a headlock or possibly a bear hug.  The people around them cheered.  
  
"Thor, don't you think you should get down from there?"  
  
Thor looked insulted.  "Of course not, Fandral!  Heimdall and I are enjoying ourselves immensely!"  He took a long swig of his drink.  
  
"He tried some colorful powder and can't remember which realm he's in," Jones whispered loudly, peering out of Thor's grip.  "I'm fine with it.  I AM THE GATEKEEPER!  YOU SHALL NOT PASS!!!"  
  
While Thor and Jones threw up their arms and beamed at their admirers, someone tapped Falsworth on the shoulder.    
  
"Hey, you seen Banner?"  Morita slurred.  "I was supposed to watch him, but you know, a party's a party..."  He slung his left arm around Falsworth's shoulder.  They looked at each other and winced when they heard what sounded like a large ton of glass smash.  "Guess that's my cue.  See ya, Falzy."  Morita wobbled quickly towards the other end of the club.  
  
Falsworth sat down at the far end of the bar, next to Clint and Natasha.  Clint stared at his hands like they were a new piece of technology.  Natasha put her head on Falsworth's shoulder and moaned, "What's my name?  I don't even knoooowww anymoooore..."   
  
He contemplated banging his head on the bar counter until Dugan ran past him, carrying the fake palm tree.  
  
"She found me, dammit!"  Dugan pressed the leaves against his face.  His mustache still poked out.  "How the hell did she find me?"  
  
"Maybe your hat gave your position away?"  
  
"Could be.  I was never here."  Dugan scuttled off into the shadows with the tree.  
  
Falsworth patted Natasha's head while Clint muttered "hooooooowwwww..." at his hands over and over.  After several minutes, two small, dark-haired women and one larger, lighter-haired one stood in front of them."  
  
"So have you seen a big orange-haired guy with a pornstache?  He came this way with a fake tree," the middle one said.  
  
"No, haven't seen anyone like that.  At all.  Ever," Falsworth answered.  
  
"Kimmy, why do you want that one?  This guy's totally cute!"  The shortest woman reached out to touch his face, but he jerked his head back.  "These three are such cute drunks!"  
  
"I'm the designated driver, actually."  Falsworth pursed his lips shut.  
  
The littlest one smiled.  "Aw, you're still adorable."  
  
"Kourt, c'mon.  Adultery won't be good for the ratings after the whole divorce thing."  The middle one led them away while the small one waved.  Clint waved back, still mumbling to himself.  
  
"I hate sobriety," Falsworth muttered.  He slammed his head on the counter.


End file.
